Too Tight
by Sunnykisses
Summary: When a surprise trip courtesy of the TARDIS goes wrong, Rose is a little shaken. Who better to help than a Doctor? One shot request for Ze Lover. Hope you enjoy, this one is for you-sorry for the bad summary!Complete. 10/Rose lemon.


Too Tight

Doctor Who

* * *

**A/n: **This one is for _Ze Lover _via special request. Sorry I took so long! One-shot. 10/Rose pairing. Let me know if I am historically inaccurate. Hope you guys enjoy!

**Revised: **12 Nov. 2012

* * *

The Doctor poked his head out of the TARDIS door, admiring the rain-slicked cobblestone road that lay before him.

"Ah, the 1800s." he sighed dreamily before closing the door and walking towards his companion, Rose, who was flipping through a glossy, fashion magazine nonchalantly.

"Rose," he asked almost shyly, slowly lowering the magazine with one hand so she could look at him. "How would you like a…vacation?"

* * *

The TARDIS was one for fashion. She hosted a whole room for the many outfits the Doctor had collected over the years, over the worlds. Now, though, Rose seemed at a loss for a dress that would fit the era they were about to divulge in.

"What year is it, again?" She called from across the room to the Doctor, who was covered in clothes.

"1832," he answered brightly, poking his head out of a pile of tunics. Rose nodded before opening another closet, which seemed to be holding just what she wanted.

"Will these do?"

The Doctor walked over, examining the dresses thoughtfully before pulling one out. It was red with black lace and ascended to the ground in graceful waves. Rose nodded eagerly at the vintage square neckline.

"I love it!" she exclaimed, attempting to grab it.

The Doctor wouldn't let her, however. "If you would let me do the honor," he asked cheekily. "What, undress me?" Rose asked bluntly. She could not help blushing. The Doctor merely smiled at her and began to slowly unzip her jacket. Rose's breath hitched but she forced herself to stay calm. He slid the light garment off her shoulders and beheld her sleeveless tank with a look.

A look that made Rose feel like she was melting.

Taking no notice to Rose's discomfort, the Doctor disregarded the shirt and came down to her jeans, slowly slipping his finger through the hole and unbuttoning them. He looked down at his handiwork as his hands moved lower, unzipping the denim and peeling it from her body, making sure to skim a hand along her smooth legs as she stepped out of them. Rose tried to make her moan obscure, but the Doctor noticed, and it only excited him more, and he quickly rid her of her tank and stood back, admiring her.

"What?" Rose bit her lip, whispering, willing herself to stay calm.

"You're not going to like this, but you're going to have to wear a hoop skirt, and a corset, and some long, itchy tights..." He frowned, looking at Rose, who looked about to protest. "Well, take out the hoopskirt, those things bother me," he babbled to himself, frowning, a hand on his chin. Rose thought he was taking an exceptionally long time.

In reality, the Doctor had already decided what Rose would wear, but he much liked watching Rose in her knickers, standing in front of him, willing and aroused. It sent shivers up his spine. He knew he needed to act like he wasn't yearning for her, like if he didn't dress her soon he would do something he would regret in the morning.

The Doctor pulled out a corset and ordered Rose to lift her hands up. Slowly, with trembling fingers, the Doctor unclasped Rose's bra. Rose was shaking, too, and he could only imagine the wetness that was building inside her panties. He dared himself not to look at her breasts as he quickly placed the corset around her, tying the strings, pulling and tying.

As soon as the corset was placed around her body and the first few strings were tied, the air left Rose's body entirely. She gasped as she inhaled her breath and choked as she exhaled. He breasts rose higher and higher and were pushed together in the most uncomfortable manner.

"I'm sorry about this," the Doctor said truthfully as he tied the last couple strings. Rose panted, it hurt to breathe, and she felt like she was suffocating.

"I...can't...talk." She whined and the Doctor turned to her, giving her a pained expression.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he looked at her, placing a kiss on her jaw sensually."And I will make it up to you. Promise."

* * *

Walking unsteadily on stiletto heels, barely breathing, with cold legs, and clutching the Doctor's hand for dear life, Rose walked through the streets of London. For the Doctor, this was all about the learning experience, and Rose was all for that!

Except now.

"Doctor," she hissed. "I should've worn that bloody hoop skirt."

"Why?"

"Because everyone else is!"

The Doctor shrugged. "Enjoy being different, not many women could at this point."

"Gee, thanks, mate." Rose scoffed. The Doctor frowned but did not answer her sarcastic comment. He clutched her hand tighter and began to walk towards a small bakery on the end of the corner.

"This place has the _best _scones." He said in an over exaggerated voice, throwing his head back. Rose laughed loudly, catching the attention of many high-class women, with their bonnets covering their heads and husbands tugging them along. Rose frowned, looking down at her body.

No tights, no hoop skirt, no gloves, her hair down and wispy. Her legs needed a shave too, while she was at it. She also noticed that the Doctor had grabbed her hand as he opened the door to the bakery. Rose remembered holding hands were considered a scandal in this time. Although, the women here held on to their husband's arms weakly, like without them they were nothing. Blushing, Rose slipped through the door and instantly let go of the Doctor's hand.

He jumped, as if her hands were an electrical current. Was it just him, or did she seem a little...fierce? He turned to ask her before he was cut off.

"Can I help ye?" A small, burly man asked, coming out and looking them in the eye. "Oi, you new here?" He asked, eyeing them up and down.

"Yes, traveling." The Doctor intervened, stepping ahead of Rose, taking her hand once again. "We heard you have marvelous scones!" Suddenly the shopkeeper's expression changed and his eyes glistened.

"Well, always glad ter hear we're known from...where yer from?"

"Doesn't matter," The Doctor, quick as always, shot back in response.

A beautiful woman suddenly came through the doors, in a fancy dress with all the sides Rose was missing. She came and kissed her husband on the cheek, ignoring the customers.

"James, dear, did I hear something about marvelous scones?"

"Yeah, them." he gestured towards the travelers and the woman looked at them, appalled at their wear.

"What country are you from?" She gasped at Rose, coming around to see her fully. The Doctor's shoulders tensed. He was hoping this wouldn't happen.

"No heels, no skirt, your hair is down! My goodness you wear too much makeup! And...do I see legs?" The woman looked utterly astonished and Rose looked at the ground, sheepish, angry, and humiliated.

"Well," James suddenly interrupted the cold stare his wife was giving Rose. "Shall we get a look then, do ya want to see where the 'magic is made'?" He asked the Doctor, who nodded at once. As Rose began to follow, James suddenly stopped her. "What, are ya, _blind_? This here is a _man's_ job. Not suitable fer a woman!" His wife nodded, still glaring at the bewildered Rose.

"I..."

But James did not hear her plea nor the Doctor's as they slipped through the door into the kitchen.

The Doctor followed James into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets, admiring all the human machinery. Beautiful, intelligent race, they were. "This is where the scones 'er made." He patted his oven affectionately. The Doctor nodded, opening the door and looking at the flame inside.

"Feisty one, innit she?" James suddenly asked.

"It's a nice oven," the Doctor nodded, inspecting the inside.

"I meant yer wife."

"Oh, yes, well, good old Rose." The Doctor mumbled, closing the door and standing up to face the shorter man. "But, I reckon if she were any nicer she wouldn't be Rose, would she?"

"Well, me wife don't usually have problems wit, you know, 'er lot."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Her 'lot'?"

* * *

The woman stared at Rose, refusing to speak to her. Rose didn't even know her name. "What?" She finally asked, exasperated.

"I beg your pardon?" She looked surprised.

"You're starin'. Just starin'." Rose said, slipping into a chair and pulling off her heels. The woman stared in horror at her bare feet and quickly dove down to cover them with a towel.

"We mustn't expose ourselves!" She squealed, admonishing Rose. After looking her over again for a few minutes, she finally turned around. Coming back with two cups of tea, she sat down quietly at the seat across from Rose's.

"I'm Mrs. James Allum." She acknowledged Rose.

"First name?"

"Excuse me?"

"What's your first name?" Rose repeated, slowly. The woman looked around, shocked.

"Abigail." She whispered.

"Abigail, that's a beautiful name." Rose said. "Can I call you Abby?"

"Abby?" She laughed haughtily. "I haven't been called that since I was a maiden." She shook her head. "No, 'madam' will do, Abigail if you must, I suppose." The woman let out a breath and adjusted her corset, blushing.

"Dastardly little things, corsets. That's the price of beauty, James says." Abigail nodded thoughtfully. "And I suppose that if James thinks that looking like this-" She pointed to her outfit. "-will make me beautiful, then I'll do it."

"He's wrong." Rose said. She didn't know why she said it, it just came out suddenly, and she couldn't hold it back, she quickly more confident and grabbed the towel off her feet. "He's wrong."

"What do you mean?" Abigail asked, astounded.

"A man shouldn't just love you if your boobs-" Abigail gasped at her slang. "-fine, _breasts _are pushed up in a corset, or how big your hoopskirt is, how high your heels are. He should love you for who you are.

"I may be a 'foreigner', or whatever I am. But I know about men. I've had good men, and a lot of bad men. And I've had the D-John. He's the best man you can have. And I hope you wake up in the morning every day and look over at James on the other side of the bed, and think to yourself, this is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I hope he thinks the same."

Abigail was speechless, then, as quickly as she had warmed up to Rose, she became cold again. "How _dare_ you!" She exclaimed, standing up and facing Rose with a sense of fury. "What is this world you live in, using absurd slang, showing your legs, sharing beds, having multiple partners, not knowing how to use makeup properly-"

Rose stood up too, offended. "What did you just say?"

At that moment James and the Doctor burst through the door, the Doctor ripping off his glasses and staring dumbfounded at Rose, whose hands were balled into fists.

"Oi, woman!" James yelled, pushing Abigail away from Rose. "What do ya think yer doin with me customer?"

"She...this _person_ should be banned from this store immediately, dear!"

"Oi, me shop, me rules, I'll do what I like, woman!" James snapped roughly, turning towards the Doctor and Rose apologetically. "Sorry, but me wife seems to have lost her mind. The woman ain't that bright, you see."

"Maybe if you educated her, she would be smarter than you." Rose defended the wife, glaring at James.

"You tellin' me to educate a _woman_?" He asked, flabbergasted. "Do ya know how many women are smart, here?"

Rose shook her head.

"None. 'Er lot don't get no schooling." He looked at his wife and laughed. "That woman don't need no schooling."

"Abigail," Abigail whispered, as she leaned against the wall.

"What's that?" James asked, turning towards her. The Doctor moved forward, preparing to intervene if things got worse.

"My name is Abigail." She looked at Rose fleetingly for a second. "But James, dear, I would like for you to call me Abby."

* * *

Arriving back to the TARDIS never felt so good before to Rose. She engulfed the scent of the Doctor and the humming of the TARDIS as he opened the door for her. She ignored the Doctor, whom she was slightly annoyed with, and went to her room, closing the door so she could undress in private.

The heels, of course, were a pain. She always considered herself good with them, but after a while they hurt her feet. She slipped them off hastily and went over to the vanity, removing her makeup silently.

_"What is this world you live in, using absurd slang, showing your legs, sharing beds, having multiple partners, not knowing how to use makeup properly-"_

Rose remembered what Abigail had told her. She was glad Abby stood up for herself, but she was still rude to her. Sighing, Rose got up and reached for her zipper. She frowned. She couldn't reach the zipper, it was too high up. Exasperated, Rose knew she would have to ask the Doctor.

* * *

"Doctor?" Rose's voice broke through his silence as she knocked on the door. He shut his book and placed it on his nightstand before getting up and opening the door. Rose was there, looking nearly a foot smaller without her heels, her face void of makeup.

"Hello," he said warmly, quietly, expectantly. He took off his glasses and stuffed them in his pajama top pocket, before turning his attention back to Rose.

"Could you unzip my dress?" She asked, biting her lip and smiling shyly. The Doctor looked a little flustered before he nodded, beckoning her into his room.

Rose looked around at the Doctor's decor. His room was simple, dark really, just a place for him to sleep. She seemed lost in thought before she felt a cold hand touch her back. She jumped as the Doctor slowly unzipped her dress and helped her step out of the garment. Then his delicate hands moved towards her corset, slowly working with the material until Rose could breathe again, and it, too, fell to the ground.

"Oh," the Doctor whispered. He had failed to remember that Rose wasn't wearing a bra underneath, and she stood before him, with only panties on. Rose noticed too, blushing deep scarlet, her hands moving like she wanted to cover her breasts, but then let them hang loosely at her side.

The Doctor suddenly felt the dire need to grab Rose and kiss her until she fell asleep in his arms, until she smelled like him. Instead he offered her his bathrobe, helping her slip into it.

"Thanks," she said sheepishly.

"No problem," the Doctor looked at his spacious bed. "Would you...would you like to lie down?" He asked with a tiny shrug. Rose nodded and took his hand, leading him to his bed. They settled in, her head on his chest, and he placed his spectacles on his nightstand before placing the covers around them until they covered Rose's shoulders.

Silence surrounded them once again as Rose's eyes drooped closed. The Doctor looked down at her, and placed his lips on the top her head as he thought of her and what she had said that night. He was proud of her, for standing up to James, and encouraging Abigail—Abby, rather—to tell her husband what she really thought.

He supposed James wasn't really a bad husband, just a typical one of that time. With no respect towards women. Now that he thought of it, he was _really_ proud of Rose. His heart swelled and he rubbed her cheek with his thumb, feeling especially giddy. He found that he could not control his blood from pumping slightly faster, rushing down to...there.

The Doctor blushed uncomfortably but did not want to wake Rose up; she was sleeping so soundly against his chest, her cheeks pink with the same embarrassment she had felt moments before...er, exposing herself to the Doctor.

He lifted up her hand, kissing each delicate finger lightly, taking her index finger and placing the tip of it in between his lips, sucking delicately on the smooth skin. Rose mumbled something in her sleep, moving her hand away from his mouth, placing it on his chest instead.

Sinking down lower, the Doctor pulled his covers around the both of them, making sure Rose was still asleep before her lowered himself to be eye level with her sleeping form. He slowly placed little butterfly kisses on her eyelids, which were fragile and threatening to pop open at any time. His hands moved to her hips, gently squeezing them, his hand running over her creamy skin through his bathrobe.

Rose was falling fast asleep, as soon as her head rested on the Doctor's chest. In her lifelike dream the Doctor was gently caressing her body, exploring her and touching every crevice of her. Moaning, Rose adjusted herself so that she was closer to the Doctor.

"Rose?" He whispered, not wanting to wake her but he did anyway.

"Yes?" Rose mumbled in response, but the Doctor did not answer her; he couldn't, because he found his lips attached to hers. Rose herself did not know how it happened; just that now her whole body was burning in a fiery passion. She moaned her surprise but did not let go of the Doctor, rather wrapping her arms around his neck.

This was all so new to the Doctor, his mind centered down to Rose, just Rose, just a silly human girl who the Doctor was head over heels in love with. Or was that head over TARDIS?

His body rocked with hers as her hands swam over the cozy fabric of his pajamas. The Doctor moved his head onto Rose's shoulder, breathing heavily. He dove into the plush fabric of his bathrobe; visions of Rose's creamy skin coating his mind. Visions of her, sweaty and aroused, pressing her hot, naked body up against him. And just as suddenly as their kiss had come, the Doctor found himself untying the fabric that clung loosely to Rose.

Rose's breath hitched as the Doctor's cold, slender fingers found their way to her waist, peeling the robe away from her, untying and pushing it back. He kept it on Rose, making sure he had a full view of her figure before he captured her mouth again.

Rose did not know how much time passed between their embrace before the Doctor's hands grazed over her breasts.

"Yes," Rose whispered seductively, her fingernails scraping the Doctor's back. The Doctor moaned his reply into her neck as his tongue moved from the nape of it down its wet path to her breast, circling the mound before flicking Rose's already pointed nipple.

"Oh, Doctor, yes!" Rose found herself crying out. Again the only communication the Doctor could manage was a moan. He looked up at Rose, both were panting. Peering into his dark, pleading eyes, Rose understood his intentions. She smiled at him, stroking his messy hair.

"It's all right, Doctor." She whispered and he nodded; relief and lust flooding into his eyes. Hurriedly, he began to fumble with his shirt buttons, before Rose steadied him with a hand. She rose to a sitting position, the bathrobe falling down to her elbows. Then she began to unbutton his shirt herself; making sure it was slow, steady, and painstakingly long. She very well knew that the Doctor wanted this to be quick—just sex. He was a Time Lord, everything went was fast. But Rose wanted the Doctor to experience something entirely different. She wanted to make love.

Gently, she pushed his shirt off of his skinny frame and winked at him. The Doctor groaned, the same pleading look entering his eyes. He reached for her hand, guiding it downwards. She felt his hardness, and closed her eyes; slow was going to be difficult.

The Doctor fidgeted; everything was going so slow, and it had a slightly more romantic air about it. He loved it, yet he hated the anticipation of it all. Rose was a sex goddess, teasing and tormenting him until God knows what he would do.

He was taken away from his train of thought when Rose's hands pulled at the elastic of his pants. Quickly they were shed along with his boxers. Rose tried to hide her blush but the Doctor saw it. Jumping on the first sign of vulnerability, the Doctor pressed his naked body to hers, his erection becoming thicker every passing moment that he wasn't inside of her. Rose kissed him again and then took his hands, moving them down to her—no,_ she wasn't…_

She was.

The Doctor squeaked as his hands reached her clit, and he felt her wetness, turning him on all the more. He briefly felt Rose's grip on his back tighten before he placed a finger at her entrance. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, and a wave of pleasure drenched onto the Doctor's fingers. They both groaned, breathing heavily. Her hands were clawing him, desperately trying to stay still as he fingered her. Finally, he slid a finger inside her and she stopped moving long enough to moan his name. He smiled and slid in and out with his finger, loving the slick, wet heat of her.

But just as it had started, it stopped. Rose ripped his finger out, her eyes demanding more. The Doctor smiled wittily, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Now he was in charge.

"Please, Doctor!" Rose begged. This was torture; _how had he turned the tables on her_? He only winked, sucking on his finger, soaked in her wetness. She gasped at him, her mouth hanging open slightly.

"Doctor! I need you!" Just as she had said it, he stopped. That was what he wanted to hear all along.

"Me more than you." He whispered. He settled her down on the bed, kissing her on the lips before he slid into her and everything turned to bliss.

Both were already on the edge, and with every slide their climax built up. Rose's walls tightened around his hard member. The Doctor was determined and aroused, Rose panting and shaking. Rose did not know when the exact time was, but at that moment they both released together. And it was a beautiful feeling, _oh, it was beautiful_, like they were both flying and they would never have to touch ground again.

Sliding out of her, the Doctor collapsed against Rose, with enough energy left to flip them around so that Rose was on top of him. When she looked into his eyes, Rose saw that same look in his dark, shiny eyes. Although this time she knew what it meant.

"I love you." The Doctor whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head. Rose let out a shaky breath.

"And I love you." She said truthfully. Cuddling against him, Rose felt so right, so complete, so at home and peace even though they were floating through space to who knows where.


End file.
